


Fly, Crow.

by Kat2107



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Canonical Rape/Non-con, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Torture, Sex Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 07:12:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3200213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat2107/pseuds/Kat2107
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darrian knows much more than he lets on. Especially about Zevran.<br/>Some things don´t require mention. You just do them. Protecting Zevran first of all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fly, Crow.

**Author's Note:**

> In DAO there is party banter between Alistair and Zevran where Alistair comments on how Zevran is not the best fighter.  
> So, in my head I started to wonder, how the crows thought, he was sufficient to take out the Warden. At something he needed to be the best. If you follow his banter, almost all his assassination happen in the bedroom.  
> I wondered, how would a young Crow come by such great seduction skills... and from there it went.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, Zevran´s protective side is right from the game. His normal set tactic is pretty much: protect the Warden. Even if you change it, he still does it. 
> 
> Warning for: talk of prior sexual abuse, canonical rape, possible child abuse and descriptions of blood shed.

Denerim below him was a field of glittering stars, the sky laid out as a blanket for his enjoyment.

The wine in his hand was dark and rich, Antivan, just as everything else Antivan in his life.

Darrian smiled.

"My dear Warden... may I inquire an answer of you?"

Looking over his shoulder he saw bronzed skin, delectably painted with dark markings, languidly sprawled over white sheets, the white blanket covering hip and legs only further framing the sheer beauty of the catlike creature that so sated and lazy occupied the rumpled bed.

Maker, but he was stunning.

"I can't help but be suspicious whenever you ask permission for anything, Zev. It's usually followed by chaos." Whenever Zevran Arainai tried to hand off responsibility the plan usually was brilliant, but so outright crazy he needed someone else to blame.

And with them going to try and rescue the queen the next morning....

Zevran's lips twitched before his face grew serious, turning the playful catlike creature into something more akin to a waiting predator.

"No, it is nothing such. I have been wondering over a question for a while now and hope, my dear Warden, you would grace me with an honest answer."

Darrian's stomach sunk at the foreboding words, his mind readily supplying all the possibilities and none of them did not end in his heart breaking because Zevran finally left.

It was the earring. Must be. He should have just taken that stupid thing, pride or no pride.

"Ask." He turned his gaze out the window again, searching for the Alienage in the Denerim night, knowing full well that it could never be home again.

"We have travelled far. And we have travelled together a good while." Eleven months, Darrian's mind supplied, preparing for the inevitable. "We have been sharing our beds for quite a while, too." 8 months and 23 days. Not that he was counting.

He didn't expect it to become 8 months and 24. "Yes?"

He felt the Crow's eyes on his back, intentionally keeping himself vulnerable. Even should Zevran leave him, he trusted him with his life.

"And yet... and yet, my dear Warden, I find myself curious as to why you never have shown any inclination to take me, when we share a bed.. or the ground or the forest. You get the meaning." Darrian's shoulders sagged with relief, before tightening with renewed tension, but for different reasons. And Zevran went on."You are not a passive man, readily sumitting. Silent, yes. Waiting for a response rather than giving it. But submissive? Never." Darrian closed his eyes, let the soft lilt of Zevran's voice, the exotic accent wash over him, as the Denerim breeze, so familiar yet by now so foreign, caressed his face and bare upper body.

He could have told his lover point blank, but it would only confuse him. It was more feeling than thought anyway.

Zevran...  

"I was conscripted into the Wardens, I did not join up, because I wanted to." The wine in his glass swirled lazily, as Vaughn's blood had pooled around his body. "It was that, or the gallows because I killed a noble man's son. As he begged for his life, even." Still he felt no remorse, never would, only that it had been too quick, perhaps.

"Your first?"

"Yes. In cold blood, at least."

"Why am I feeling..."

Darrian didn't even let him finish. "It was my wedding day. I didn't care much for my bride or for marriage."

"Or women in general." The man on the bed helpfully supplied and it made Darrian smile, the implicitness of the thought, of finally knowing what had been "wrong"

"Still, I was set to marry. And they came, Vaughn came and took her away. They knocked me unconcious when I tried to stop them and when I awoke four women were missing. Among them my bride and ... my cousin. Shianni." "The feisty little redhead?"

Feisty little redhead... even with the apprehension in Zevran's voice, Darrians mouth twitched. She'd love that description.

"You met her… She's like my sister. The others in the Alienage... they'd let it happen, too timid to fight. To frightened to dare to act up in any way. They say, we are not slaves any more, but..." A quick glance over his shoulder, taking in Zevran's carefully neutral expression.

“You don't need to be called a slave, to be one, do you?”

He let the sigh slip and his gaze turn back to the city outside the open window.

“I went after them with my other cousin, Soris. I struck down every damn soldier and guard in my way, but they were just... They fought me, I fought back. They fell. I only wanted to get to Shianni and my.. I don't even really remember her name." There was a faint pang of guilt, but really, what had they had in common? Half a day?

"I found one of the women murdered. She had resisted. I found Vaughn and three of his friends just lacing up their breeches over Shianni's..." His voice broke.

Sometimes he thought, he was over it. There were days, weeks even, when the anger and the hatred lay dormant and didn´t bother him. He choked on it now. Wished, it wasn't so blatantly obvious, yet it was the beginning for everything. "I was too lenient in killing them, went too fast...."

"She is strong", Zevran's voice was gentle, yet heavy with old hurt and maybe dawning understanding. "It must run in the family, no?"

Darrian snorted softly, emptying the wine glass.

"She's a survivor, yes. I want to think, watching them bleed out before her eyes, helped. But sometimes... you saw her. She flinches, when she's isn't expecting your touch. I wished..."

He straightened his shoulders. "So... Duncan conscripted me to save my life. And I ended up at Ostagar. And then some stupid Crow tried, very little tried, to kill me. And he had this.... He had no pride. Even when I threatened to torture him and believe me, I was serious, he seemed to just accept it, like it didn't matter... what he did instead was to flirt."

"And that confused you."

A laugh was startled out of Darrian. "Yes. Oh yes..."

He didn't look back, but he thought, he heard the smile in Zevran's voice.

"He introduced me to the concept that a man could want a man and not be… frowned upon."

"And he took you to his bed."

"No." Darrian broke off. "Yes, but not then. Not yet. He was loud and brash. Open in his agressive flirtation with everybody… and Wynne, of all people. So harmless, so shallow, so seemingly stupid...an annoying facade, but very succesfull"

Darrian sought for Zevran's reflection in the distorted glass of the window, finding one small piece, smooth enough to show his face.

"And then that idiot jumped in front of a sword for me in a fight. Showing, he, at least somewhat, cared." He took a deep breath, just piling it all neatly in a clean pile. "And I started to actually listen, to what he said.

'3 sovereigns' 'You might say, my mother was my first victim' ’I was seven’ 'It was not so bad, I know what became of the other boys at the whorehouse' 'I did a alot of things, some pleasent, many not '"

The silence behind him was deafening. Zevran's head lowered, unreadable.

"And when I finally worked up the courage to.. invite you.. I expected... I don't know... maybe someone who loved as he talked. Instead I got.. a man so gentle and caring... experienced, yes, beyond imagination, but so careful... I wished, at times, I could have stayed ignorant to the reason." Reaching up, touching a finger to the cold glass, colder even, since the window was still open, the cool night air still chilling his skin, he caressed over the mirror image of Zevran's face.

"You have nightmares, sometimes, when you sleep next to someone you trust. Did you know that?" Darrian snorted. "Forget I asked. I'm pretty sure, the list of people you ever trusted that much is extremely exclusive."

He heard the rustle of clothing, naked footsteps come closer, and then felt a pair of arms sneak around his midst.

"So, you made the decision for me, to deny yourself this."

Darrian placed the empty wine glass on the window sill, not looking behind.

"No, I made it for me. That was actually the first sign… Your flirtation, how sensual you were. You are not the very best fighter out there. You are good and you are a great assassin, but as I began to think about how you could possibly be, with your skills, good enough to be a such a deadly killer… You are a master at seduction. Your body, your sexuality a weapon.”

“As is every crow's, but one in a delightful arsenal.”

“At the beck and call of your masters, to be used as they please.”

“And now..” Zevran's voice dipped into that sensual purr, he so perfectly knew to use. “you are the master… yet you refuse to use me.”

Darrian snorted at that, fingers trailing over Zevran's hand.

“Oh, I'm using you plenty, in case you haven't noticed, only the how and when and what will always be your choice.”

“And you let me use you, my dear Warden, without second thought.”

“Would you stop, if I felt uncomfortable, should I ask you to?”

“Of course.”

“Would you ask me to stop, my beautiful Crow?”

Darrian knew the answer to that, even without the frown on is lover's reflection, and he cut him off after the first three words.

“That is exactly the point, Zevran.

I had your blood debt. I had your oath and life in my hands. I held all the power over you, even as you were more the more experienced. And I decided, however it was in my power, to not use it. Not in this way, not against you. Ever."

He risked a glance, risked facing Zevran's diplomatic mask of a perfectly non-descript face. Instead he found it blank with eyes that, just by their expression, might have been bleeding out right before him.

"I promised myself, I would never take you. Not until you asked me to, of your own free will, because you wanted it. Not as a chore, not as a bargaining chip... Oh don't look at me, like you never thought of it. I know a few things about survival, when you are at a disadvantage... "

The Antivan lowered his head, taking a deep breath at the juncture of Darrian's neck, eyes closed, a fine smile playing across his lips, even as the pain played out over his features.

"Are you smelling my neck, Zevran?"

The Antivan hummed in silent agreement. "It is the smell of a very precious gift."

Darrian would have laughed then, at something that sounded like the Crow's usual overblown words but for their topic and the minute hesitation before he had spoken.

"What does it smell like?" Darrian lifted his hand, gently carding his fingers through the silken soft strands of his lover’s hair, caressing his fingertips over the Antivan's ear.

"Freedom." Again, Zevran hesitated. "Safety." His face turned slightly, lips brushing over the skin on the Warden's throat. "Security."

Darrian closed his eyes. Having his suspicions confirmed, no matter how sure he had been before... it hurt. The thought of Zevran having been hurt like this and having been hurt enough for it to become normal enough for him to just accept the pain...

"You were so beautiful..." Zevran whispered the words next to Darrian's ear, not waiting for his confused huff before continuing. "So shy and blushing, though hardened and wounded in battle already, a leader of men... when I came to your bed you were so sweet and innocent. Unsullied yet by all the ugliness that could have befallen you. And I was glad. Only wanted to do right by you, give you the best, very best, I got." Fingers interlaced in front of Darrian's stomach, softly caressing the skin pulling taut over muscles that, no matter how relaxed, were always ready to have him spring into action at any second. Unless he was with Zevran.

And he understood. "It's hard to destroy what has been built right. Built on the knowledge of trust."

"Yes." The Warden turned in Zevran's arms at his words and lifted his hand to link behind the other's neck.

"How hard is it to reset a foundation that has been cast wrong?"

"Impossible, I daresay, my dear Warden." Zevran's voice held no pain, no regret, only carefully calculated playfulness as he caught his lover's lip with his teeth and purred gently, his tongue painting tiny swirls before he let go. "But you have been known to do the impossible."

"Don't ever invite me into your body out of a false sense of obligation, Zevran. Don't you ever dare."

"Will what we have be enough for you, even if it means forever me taking my pleasure from you only?"

This made Darrian laugh outright, had him nip at Zevran jaw and plant a smacking kiss on his lips. "I can't believe you, of all people, are doubting your skills, Zev. Really not."

Zevran didn't laugh, only let his arms tighten around his lovers shoulders.

"The same promise. I won't tolerate you lacking, because of...."

"Stop. Zevran stop." The laughter died. "I'm not missing anything. And if, I don't know it. And I don't care. Not handing you all the freedom at least once in your life, would slowly tear me apart. I need you to trust me there... and I need to be able to trust you with your own... I don't know... safety, or whatever it is you want to call it, as well. Understood?"

Zevran's lips pressed against the soft - and extremely vulnerable - spot on Darrian's throat. They both knew, one bite,  with enough pressure and the Warden would die.

It only made the gesture more real between the two assassins, Darrian knowing all Zevran did at that point. The Antivan did not slack when he trained his friends.

He dropped his head, nuzzling at Darrian's shoulder, purring gently, then nipped at the exposed skin.

"You will tell me, Warden, should you ever want. Yes?" Darrian nodded at that. This was his least concern. With Zevran as a lover lacking anything was very much not happening.

"When I want you to take me and fuck me, you will not doubt me." Zevran’s voice, threaded with steely resolve, echoed in the silent room. He could do that, only rarely did. It made Darrian open his mouth to agree, then clamp it shut.

"Zev..."

"Trust, my dear Warden."  The fingers linked behind Darrian's back slowly circled on the skin. "When I ask you, it will be because I want to hear the sounds you make, as you enter me, want to hear you gasp and see your face, lips wet and shining, eyes unseeing with pleasure, your cheeks flushes, lashes trembling as you come, burried deep inside me. It will be, because I want to feel you come undone inside my body. Do not doubt me in this."

Darrian forced his breath to slow, his eyes to open. He could not force his body not to respond to the sensual allure of the words, his cock filling, pressing against Zevran's hip, any more than he could wipe the smug grin of the Antivan's face.

Or stop him from continuing...

"You make this little sound, my beautiful Warden, when I push into your body. Have done so, since the first time, trembling under me, your skin flushed with need. It's a soft gasp, a very gentle whimper. At first I thought it was from pain, cursed myself for not being more gentle, for not proving worthy of your gift..." He broke up Darrian's protest with a finger to his lips. "But then I saw your face, the wonder in your eyes, your tongue licking your lips - you do that, when you need to be kissed - and recognized it for what it was. Lust, pleasure, marvel. Undisguised honesty. I want to know, one day, if you make the same sound, when you enter me. If I can entice you such, with my surrender." His tongue, as if to give weight to his words, slowly travelled up Darrian's ear, drawing forth a soft gasp, a faint shudder.

"So vulnerable, so precious. And I swore, I'd protect this with my life if necessary, never expecting, to be thus protected as well." All of him stilled - the fingers on Darrian's back flexing but once. "To have that... I fail at honest words, my love. I do not fail at honest lovemaking... if you allow."

By that point Darrian was hard and wanting, erection pressing against Zevran with unhidden need. But Zevran wanted words. He wanted his outspoken permission to fuck him senseless, if only this once. The words, the surrender meaning more than just the act itself.

"Yes." He swallowed. "Please" He looked up, into the dark eyes of the Antivan, willingly handing off control. "Take me."

Feeling Zevran shudder, almost come apart at the words only, was worth it.

Being carried to bed and loved so thoroughly...

  
  



End file.
